Xiao Quan looked around the unfamiliar surroundings with confusion. "Granduncle... uncle What granduncle Where are we",Xiao Ding had no power or influence, so Xiao Quan needed to make a serious plan to change this situation.,He gazed at the bright moon in the sky, and was reminded of a particularly fitting poem. He couldn't help but recite: "Before my bed, the bright moon shines, / Like frost on the ground it seems to be. / I lift my head to see the moon high, / And lower my head to think of home."。